


Starting Over

by 20BlueBoy19



Series: Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? [3]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Arguing, Bonding, But with a happy ending, Fluff, M/M, Other, Trust, Yelling, getting over drugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-06 01:29:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16378808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/20BlueBoy19/pseuds/20BlueBoy19
Summary: “Just… I’m not trying to tell you how to live your life. I know you’re doing this to forget-““You’re stepping into some dangerous territory there, friend-““About before, but it’s only gonna keep it with you. You need to learn how to deal with this anger, not fuel it-““Sure doesn’t sound like you’re telling me what to do.” Saylor said sarcastically.





	Starting Over

Saylor filled with rage like he was on a psycho high. “Who are you to tell me what I can and can’t do? I’m a grown adult and I can make decisions if I know I can handle them!”

“You don’t know what you’re doing!” Nick said, losing his temper as well. “Those things don’t come with labels!” His voice dropped and he tried to calm down. “You’ve been acting different.”

“You don’t know who I am-“Saylor’s voice cracked and he coughed. “You don’t know who I was before…”

“Just… I’m not trying to tell you how to live your life. I know you’re doing this to forget-“

“You’re stepping into some dangerous territory there, friend-“

“About before, but it’s only gonna keep it with you. You need to learn how to deal with this anger, not fuel it-“

“Sure doesn’t sound like you’re telling me what to do.” Saylor said sarcastically.

Nick continued with venom in his voice. “Can I speak for five seconds without you interrupting me?”

“Don’t speak to me like I’m a child!”

“Then stop acting like one!”

That struck a nerve. Without thinking, Saylor brought his hand up to do something –either slap Nick or just to scare him into not talking- but cold metal fingers closed around his wrist before he got very far. Saylor was pushed into the wall.

“Fucking let me—“

Nick tightened his grip. It hurt like hell. Nate faded out talking and squinted his eyes in pain before Nick’s hand softened on his wrist.

“Wanna try that again, sweetheart?” Nick sighed and let go of Saylor’s arm, seeing the discomfort in the other man’s face. The mood changed, and the synth’s face looked ashamed. “Sorry, I know I can get a bit-“

"Just... let me go for a second, okay?"

Nick nodded and took a step away. Saylor inhaled deep breaths and exhaled them slowly, calming down. Nick spoke again.

"All that arguing, it was my fault. I'm sorry I--"

“No. Don’t be, really.” Saylor looked away. “I’ve wanted to quit, but I didn’t really have a reason to. But now… just… thanks. Nice to know that someone cares about me.”

Nick nodded. “I am sorry, though. Sometimes I don’t watch my temper and I forget my own strength…”

Words spilled out of Saylor's mouth like a dam broke. “I’m sorry too, Nick. I overreacted completely and lost my temper and said terrible things I swear I didn’t mean. You were trying to help me and I was difficult and rude. You don’t need to apologize.” The synth raised a finger to argue but Saylor continued. “There. That equals out. Now neither of us can apologize to the other anymore. We’re good, okay?”

There was a pause. Nick looked despondent.

“Nick?”

“Yeah! Yeah… sor- okay.”

Saylor put his hand over the synth’s skeletal metal one. “Thank you. Don’t beat yourself up over being a bit rough, I needed a push. I’ll quit the chems. Don’t feel bad.”

Nick just nodded, drawing his hand away. Saylor cursed and dug through his bag. “Fuck it, I’ll quit right now.”

The synth watched Saylor rummage through his bag and bring out an addictol. “Been saving a few of these in case something happened, but I heard they make you puke real bad so I didn’t really want to use one. That and…” he gestured around vaguely. Nick understood. He had been addicted, half of him wanting to stop and half of him never wanting to.

The man spit on his arm and rubbed the area clean with his bandana. Then he braced himself before lunging the needle into his skin and pressing the fluid into his body. After using stimpacks for half a year he sort of got used to being stabbed with a needle, but still.

He felt better afterwards, even if he did need to vomit instantly. But better mentally. Cleaner, thoughts more organized.

If only he’d known that clean feeling wouldn’t last the full four days in the future while he doped himself up with addictol. But he’d have it no other way. Time to start a new life, again.


End file.
